


How To Win Friends

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: High School, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Slash, aos kirk has some anger issues, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9246596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: Jim gets pissed off at this "Spock" kid in his class. They become friends somehow.





	

**Author's Note:**

> yeah? yeah
> 
> also based on a prompt--"i got mad and threw a textbook at your head but oh you're really cute actually"
> 
> i have a few more prompts i still want to write for so there might be a few more of these. Who knows

Jim was already on thin ice when he’d walked into the school that morning. He’d hardly gotten any sleep for reasons you wouldn’t catch alive him telling the school counselor about, and the ever-present mixture of emotions buzzing right under his skin were made all the worse for it. He was, in short, high-strung, and school always tested that limit. He was surprised they even let him show up anymore what with all of his “patterns of delinquent behavior,” but it was either this or never getting the means to leave this shitty town, so he’d try and make the grades where he could.

Physics was, however, definitely testing his limits. Not the material—that was simple enough, most days, but today they’d been paired off to work on a set of problems together, and he’d been assigned the one person in class he hadn’t talked to a single time.

Spock.

The only reason he even knew his name was because their teacher had to call roll. Despite Jim’s burning curiosity as to why a Vulcan ended up in the middle of nowhere, Iowa, of all places, he hadn’t gotten the guy to talk to him about it. Usually that wouldn’t bother him. Usually, it wouldn’t bother him that Spock was the kind of group member who pretended like he wasn’t in a group. Jim had to drag his feet over and sit down next to him, only for Spock to lean over his worksheet and begin doing all of the problems himself.

Fine. Whatever. Jim wasn’t stupid; he could do his own work. He followed suit, for a while, trying not to listen to the sound of all of the other students discussing the assignment, and the papers shifting and pencils scratching. His brain was buzzing and all of this activity was making it really hard to focus, but he managed for a good fifteen minutes, before he got to something that was going to make him gnaw through his pencil (or snap it in half) if he sat there trying to think through it any longer.

“Hey, what’d you get for number three?” he spoke up, finally.

Spock acted like he hadn’t heard him. Except he _had_ , because his hand hesitated for just the smallest of moments, before continuing on writing.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Jim said, voice measured. The thought that he should probably not be escalating this flitted through his mind, but that just pissed him off more.

Spock turned to him, and raised one of his eyebrows, expression otherwise blank.

Jim snapped. “Don’t look at me like I’m _stupid_ ,” he demanded, shoving Spock’s shoulder and finding himself surprised at how little Spock gave, shifting only a few inches.

But despite his fortitude, Spock’s posture stiffened, his shoulders squaring and eyes widening into an expression that Jim couldn’t _not_ recognize as fear.

Jim tipped on the precipice of all of his anger draining out at just that, at not being pushed back, but then their teacher snapped “ _James!”_ and the entire class turned to look at him.

Embarrassment and shame clouded his head and he did the only thing he could to keep the situation in his control—he shot out of his chair and flung it down to clatter on the floor, responding, “ _Fine!_ ” before marching out of the room, turning down the hallway to where they would have dragged him anyways.

He dropped himself into a chair in the “quiet room,” a small classroom with only a few desks that were usually empty. He curled up against the wall and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, choking back the tears that were trying to well up in frustration. This was stupid— _he_ was stupid. The rest of his class already thought he was hopeless, anyways, just some kid with anger issues, and that never bothered him before, but—

Spock. He’d looked terrified. Jim had been the _reason_ he’d been terrified.

He’d never wanted to see himself turn into that. But now…

No. He’d fix this. He’d make this better.

***

Class passed him by as he leaned against the wall, calming down enough to slip out of consciousness until the crowd of students stampeding down the hallway woke him out of his reverie.

The door opened, and he rubbed at his face one last time to erase all evidence of tears before looking over. His teacher was standing there, face carefully nonjudgmental, with Spock hovering just behind their shoulder.

“James…?” they tested, and he huffed, getting up out of his chair.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. The teacher stepped aside, looking back at Spock, and Jim stared at him, too. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t want to give the canned apology he had so many times, making pretty with students who had legitimately deserved his outrage. That wouldn’t feel right.

He looked warily at their teacher. He was getting an idea, but he didn’t like the thought of there being an audience. Hell, he didn’t really like the thought of being so honest to _Spock_ , but at the same time, he couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t.

Spock stepped forward. Well, he _strode_ forward, crossing the small area between them in a couple of steps, movements measured more carefully than anyone Jim had ever seen before.

He stared, for a second, and then crossed his arms, meeting Spock’s eyes.

“Sorry,” he said, quietly and honestly. It seemed like a good place to start. “Didn’t mean to hurt you. If I did. I just…” he thought about everything that would explain his behavior, and it lined up pretty well with things he didn’t want to share with strangers. He completed his statement with a shrug, instead. “Sorry,” he repeated.

Spock nodded slightly, not breaking eye contact. “Thank you, James,” he said, and his voice was steady and gentle and Jim was getting goose bumps.

“Jim,” he corrected, without thinking. His chest felt tight.

Spock tilted his head, eyebrows coming together in question.

“My friends call me Jim,” he clarified.

“Are we friends?” Spock asked, and rightly so.

Jim shrugged. “We could be.”

Spock stared at him, and Jim fought the urge to fidget, not thinking about why he wanted Spock’s approval so badly.

“Jim,” Spock repeated, finally, and Jim’s face split into a grin.

“Yeah,” he said, fatigue of the rest of the day nearly forgotten. “Let’s get lunch.”


End file.
